


Neutral Territory

by Toricchi



Category: Dragon Kishi-dan (Dragon Knights)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-21
Updated: 2007-09-21
Packaged: 2017-10-05 23:50:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toricchi/pseuds/Toricchi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tetheus and Saabel still aren't getting along well, to say the least.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Neutral Territory

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for volume 26.

"This is your side of the room," Tetheus told him, and he knew he wasn't imagining that dark glare. He didn't like sharing his office? Well, Saabel didn't like it, either. It wasn't like he'd asked to invade his personal space, but he had to go somewhere while they were waiting around for elf-boy to get his ass in gear, and no other rooms had the proper set up. How lame was that? Dragon clan, lots of money, you'd think they had a spare office or two lying around, but _noo_, he got to share with the freaky guy who never talked.

"Whatever," he said, and sprawled out on the couch and propped his boots up. You had to give it to the dragons; they had a fine sense of interior decoration. This was a comfy couch. He imagined he'd be spending a lot of time on it being that they didn't actually have much for him to do, since his dragon was, y'know, _sleeping_, lazy bastard, with no sign of waking up anytime this century.

"The couch is on my side of the room," Tetheus stated with a little twitch of the eyebrow. Oooh, he was a possessive one. He made sure to wipe his boots on the cushions, and Tetheus' eyes watched every small flake of mud falling to the floor.

"Hey, sharing is caring," he quipped. "We're friends now, aren't we?"

Tetheus's face said he doubted that.

"I mean, I've forgiven you for all the times you beat me up, and now that you're not actively trying to kill me anymore, I was hoping that we could, you know, get along better. Strike up a friendship. You know what I mean?"

Tetheus sat down at his desk. His eyebrow was still twitching. Saabel rolled over and stuffed one of the cushions under his head and pulled out a book.

This could be... interesting.

 

* * *

 

He didn't quite know what it was that got to him so much about Tetheus in particular. Rath? Annoying. Get over it already, emo kid. Rune? Obviously a pansy, and also, sometimes he forgot that he wasn't scared of faeries anymore and Rune made him jump when he entered a room (also, it was Rune's fault he was stuck sharing an office with Mr. Talkative, since he was so goddamn picky). Thatz? The way he shovelled food into his mouth was disgusting. Rath's girlfriend's voice was really annoying as well, and it was another black mark against Rune that he'd managed to snag a hot girlfriend while being so utterly boring himself. Also, a lot of people still looked at him weird in the corridors. He felt like he should be wearing a sign that said "I'm A Good Guy Now" or something.

But Tetheus? Aside from the fact that he'd tried to kill him a lot (well, Saabel had been trying to kill him as well, but who was the one who'd been used as Yusurugi's lunch? It was a bit unfair picking on him for that), well, actually, that was a major factor. It was hard to be nice to a guy when you'd been earnestly trying to pull their guts out a few weeks ago. Knowing that Tetheus would have gleefully left him to die in that puddle—hey, that's what he would have done- kinda was a dampener. And there was something awfully gloomy about him: all black leather and steel and responsibility. Maybe he was happy working all day and sleeping alone at night, but Saabel, he liked to enjoy himself, live life, have a bit of fun. He doubted Tetheus even knew how to spell the word.

In other words, he was _boring_.

And the sound of his quill scratching away was really starting to get on his nerves. He'd never been good at staying still or repetition or bureaucracy and all this red tape shit (he'd never filed a report for Nadil in the all the time he'd worked for him, and as far as he was concerned it had worked fine), and he didn't understand why the dragon castle had so many rules: they wanted double copies of all his reports (reports? what reports? what was there to report _about_? Dragon: still sleeping, everything else fine), he was supposed to meet with Rath once a week to discuss "official matters" (and the guy might be his king, but he was still a headcase as far as Saabel was concerned), which so far had involved thinly-veiled sniping at each other, and he was supposed to go on "missions" of "goodwill" (hadn't worked out what_ that_ meant either. Something about apologizing for nearly drowning everyone, he surmised. Well, flooding would be an improvement on this boring city; at least he could get some surfing in). Everybody was so goddamned grateful that Nadil hadn't blown the planet up that it wouldn't matter what he said anyway; people close to Kainaldia were probably still getting shitfaced every night in celebration.

They needed a little something to liven up the place. Everyone was behaving themselves disgustingly well, settling down and having babies now that demons (and ahem, not all demons were evil made manifest) weren't going to kill them in their beds. Half the female population of Dusis had been crying at Ruwalk and Cernozura's wedding the other day. Gag him with a spoon. Goodwill? There was so much goodwill in the air he was choking on it; everyone was so afraid of disturbing their precious, precious peace that they went out of their way not to step on any toes.

Everyone except him and Tetheus, really. The atmosphere in the office hadn't improved from the first day. If anything, it had gotten worse.

The first thing Saabel did in the morning was get up early, and by early he meant "at the asscrack of dawn" since Tetheus apparently never slept, so he could beat Tetheus into the office and drag the couch onto his side of the room. (He'd suggested, very rationally, he'd thought, dividing the room in half with tape, but Tetheus had naysayed that idea with one of those looks that said he was contemplating using your spine as a toothpick). If he had been trying to get any work done, it would have been enough to drive him to distraction. It pleased him that Tetheus wasn't doing much better.

Heh.

Tetheus, with the purported ability to go four days without sleep in the midst of a war; who rarely let the slightest flicker of emotion show on his face (Kitchel was the only one who seemed to be able to get a smile out of him, and even that was equal parts "urge to kill rising" and "why do I like this girl?" Oh, Tetheus was kidding himself if he thought people didn't notice _that_, the Black Officer didn't usually go around looking at people in any way that could be described as "fond," and the last person who had attempted to glomp him was probably still in the infirmary); who lived for his job? Was starting to crack.

It was just the smallest chink, but it proved his armour wasn't impenetrable. Sometimes when he looked over to give Tetheus a mocking smile, his eyebrow and the corner of his mouth would twitch in tandem, and he would glare at him. But Saabel hadn't been freelancing for Nadil's army for five years for nothing, and safe in the knowledge that Tetheus was no longer allowed to kill him, would smirk back at him with as much insolence he could gather up. Then Tetheus would snort to himself, and go back to his work, until it started all over again. He knew Tetheus probably still didn't trust him yet, and antagonizing him wouldn't improve the situation, but it was just so tempting!

Maybe it was slightly immature, but he had an eternity to grow up after all, and why shouldn't he enjoy it? So he did... just a few little things. One day he blunted all Tetheus's quills. The week after that, he put thumbtacks in his top drawer. Just little things, but it was funny how much they annoyed Tetheus. Each time he discovered one of Saabel's pranks, it would be accompanied by a sour look and a twitch of the mouth like he wanted to say something but seemed to decide it was above him. Yes, as the Black Officer, devoted to law and justice and a senior member of the dragon castle, it really would be beneath him to let Saabel get under his skin.

Let Tetheus chew on _that_ while he tried to work out why his chair wouldn't move (the reason being the judicious application of nails).

Tetheus eventually gave up on trying to wrench his chair off the floor (he probably _could_ have done it, although it would have ripped up the floorboards and Tetheus was of course too conscientious for that) and stalked off, to find a screwdriver, Saabel imagined. He tried not to laugh, but he had to bury his face in the cushions to control himself until Tetheus was safely out of the room.

At this point, the only worry was running out of pranks before Tetheus ran out of patience, and that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. He _was_ a master trickster, after all.

Tetheus came back in before he had time to compose himself, bearing a screwdriver like a dagger. He tried to cut off the last giggles, he really did, but Tetheus kinda looked like a pissed off bear when he was annoyed, and that only made him want to laugh even more. He was sure his expression must look very odd, facial muscles contorted into all sorts of positions to keep the laughter in. Tetheus's hand tightened on his screwdriver, and the look he gave him on his way past was enough to make even Saabel freeze: it bore right into his bones, and promised pain of every kind imaginable.

And then he _smiled_.

It was more terrifying than Saabel could have imagined.

It only lasted a few seconds before it was replaced by his usual rock-eating expression but that was more than enough for him; he never, ever wanted to see it again: Tetheus' lips pulled into an unnatural rictus, more like an amused snarl, baring lots of pointy white fairy-eating teeth. If that was his idea of mirth, he needed to practice more often (or not. Please. Save them all).

Shaking off the sudden cold sweat, Saabel sank down into his bed of cushions. What had all that just meant?

* * *

 

He slept in the next morning, having been awake into the small hours trying to work out what the fuck Tetheus was on, and where he could get some of it. When he eventually slunk into work, still nursing his mug of extra-strong coffee, Tetheus was already at his desk with an industrial-sized pot of ink and a stack of parchments at his side. Saabel sighed, put his coffee on the ground next to the couch and rolled his weary body onto the couch.

_Fuck_!

He rolled _off_ it straight away, collapsing to the floor in an undignified, flailing pile of limbs. He _knew_ Tetheus was watching, but he couldn't help itself; it felt like he'd just been stabbed in the ass by a thousand miniature swords. Small pinpricks of blood welled from dozens of tiny wounds on his hands and arms; he narrowed his eyes at the suspiciously familiar shape and dipped his hand more cautiously into the pile of cushions.

Thumbtacks.

He looked from the small gold pins sparkling in his hands to Tetheus, who caught his stare for a moment and _smirked_. It was just there for a few seconds before it disappeared and his face reverted to its usual expressionless state, but it was self-satisfied and amused and _evil_.

He threw the thumbtacks to the ground, and snarled back at him with all the menace he'd spent long years honing in Nadil's army.

This meant _war_.


End file.
